


Fool For Love

by braille_upon_my_skin



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8276986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braille_upon_my_skin/pseuds/braille_upon_my_skin
Summary: "There's barely a camaraderie between Kelsi and Sharpay, even when they're collaborating on a project. The dynamic between them can be adequately described as 'the pesky thorn in each other's sides'. So, why did Sharpay call on Kelsi, and why is Kelsi abandoning her need for a good night's sleep to rush to Sharpay's aid?" Kelsi/Sharpay. Pre-femslash.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I got bit by the Kelsi/Sharpay bug. Though we get but small glimpses of it, within canon, the dynamic between these two intrigues me. This is but another small insight into the idea of Kelsi/Sharpay, with focus on Kelsi's side of things. 
> 
> The title was taken from the song of the same name, by Stefy.

 

-x-

 

Kelsi Nielsen is awoken at 3:52 AM by the sound of her cellphone going off.

It's the ringtone she picked for Sharpay. She composed it herself around midnight, during her junior year. She envisioned the blonde, self-proclaimed queen of East High's theater department stalking toward her, brown eyes flashing, recalled the vanilla scent of Sharpay's perfume, and came up with a dangerously twinkling melody that gradually builds into an eruption of discordant bombast.

Like one of Sharpay's ear-piercing screams.

Kelsi sits up, groggy, and feels around her nightstand for her glasses case. The light from her phone's screen is blinding, and she vaguely wonders what Sharpay wants from her, this time.

After successfully retrieving her glasses and putting them on her face, she mumbles a "hello?" into the device. Her mouth feels like it's full of cotton. She can't tell if this is a byproduct of sleep… or just another affect that Sharpay Evans has on her.

"Keeeeeelsiiii!" The thick slur to Sharpay's words is Kelsi's first indicator that she's going to regret accepting this call.

"Sharpay? It's nearly four in the morning."

"I was out with the girls, and this bar tender. Bar tendress? Whatever." The blonde girl lets out a snorting, undignified laugh, and Kelsi can almost picture how sloppy she must look, nearly falling over herself in her pumps and skin-tight dress. 

Her stomach tightens.

"She reminded me of you. Glasses. Brunette curls."

The words send an unbidden shiver up Kelsi's spine. "Sharpay, where are you?" She almost worries that the panic eating at her insides will invade her voice, making her look like a fool in front of Sharpay, but she assures herself that the "theater queen" is too drunk to pick up on something as minuscule as one of her "underlings" being concerned for her well-being.

There are voices in the background- loud, booming men's voices, too close to the phone, to _Sharpay_ , who is not in her right mind, and, therefore, _vulnerable_ , for comfort, and the panic hits Kelsi's throat. She scrambles out of bed, grabs a cardigan out of her closet, pulls her hair into a messy bun, and rushes to slip on her shoes and fetch the keys to her mother's car. 

"I'm on my way," she assures the other girl. The _Stay safe_ she almost lets slip out dies wordlessly on her tongue.

As she's speeding down the highway, Kelsi asks herself, _Why me?_ Why not one of Sharpay's _many_ admirers on the football team, Zeke, or even poor Ryan, who, while undeserving of bearing the burden of cleaning up his sister's messes, at least lives under the same roof and has the very blood running in his veins tying him to Sharpay.

Kelsi can't even consider herself a friend of Sharpay's. Even though the memory of Sharpay's arm resting on her back while the water from the sprinkler system at Lava Springs cascaded down on all of them, the blonde's body warm against Kelsi's soaked clothing and wet skin, is seared to Kelsi's brain. She and Sharpay are not close in the way that Kelsi and Ryan are-easily sharing ideas and discussing their dreams of making it in show business, or in the way that Kelsi and Troy are- giving each other nicknames, shooting each other warm smiles, and wrapping one another in tight hugs.

There's barely a camaraderie between Kelsi and Sharpay, even when they're collaborating on a project. The dynamic between them can be adequately described as 'the pesky thorn in each other's sides'.

So, why did Sharpay call on Kelsi, and why is Kelsi abandoning her need for a good night's sleep to rush to Sharpay's aid?

And why did the very idea of Sharpay in peril cause Kelsi's chest to constrict, leaving her feeling that she wouldn't be able to draw more oxygen into her lungs until she was certain Sharpay was safe?

 

-x-

 

Kelsi finally locates Sharpay milling about outside of a nightclub in a shady area of town.

A lock of golden hair is twirled around Sharpay's finger, and she bats her eyes in a manner that is obviously intended to be flirtatious, but, in the context of her levels of intoxication, just seems sort of… sad.

The object of her advances, a tall, broad shouldered and well-muscled older man, is entirely unimpressed. He's asking her for her mom's number, most likely meaning to ensure an authority figure gets this clearly wasted and _clearly underage_ girl home, when Kelsi timidly approaches.

"Uh, Sharpay?" She calls.

"Kelsi!" Sharpay breaks into a grin, her eyes hooded by drooping lids coated in glittery, smokey eyeshadow. Her hair, partially pulled back away from her face, still tumbles down to her ribcage in soft, flaxen curls. The thin fabric of her dress clings to her body, not rumpled or disheveled by wandering, groping, forceful hands.

Kelsi almost lets herself draw in a breath. _She's okay. She's_ safe _._

"Do you know this girl?" The man asks, his thumb poised over the keypad of his cellphone.

"'course I do. That's Kelsi, my sawed-off… " The name appears to evade Sharpay, so she settles on, "songwriter."

"I can get her home, sir," Kelsi assures the bouncer.

The man sizes Kelsi up.

Her heart hammers against her ribcage. She doesn't know what she'll do if he refuses to let her take Sharpay. How does she even get herself into these messes? She should be home, in bed, curled up under her mountain of blankets and dreaming about staves, and clefs, and notes in sequences, and the type of guy she might marry once she's put Albuquerque behind her.

Ultimately, the bouncer seems to decide that she harbors no dastardly intentions for the bacchanalian girl, because he slips his phone back into his pocket.

Kelsi lets herself unleash a sigh of relief. She scurries to Sharpay's side, and takes hold of her hand. "Come on. Let's get you home."

Sharpay blinks, her long eyelashes fluttering lazily against her cheeks. She offers up no refutation, just a wide, guileless smile, and her hand closes around the composer's.

Kelsi swallows and tries not to think about how warm, smooth, and soft Sharpay's hand is. About the shivers her touch inspires.

"Your friend, here, is lucky she has someone like you to look after her," the bouncer says as Kelsi escorts Sharpay to her sleek little car.

"Yeah," Kelsi murmurs, a thin smile tugging at her lips.

_Friend_.

She feels as though the word would leave a sour taste in her mouth if uttered aloud, and she can't discern why. But, she has a feeling it has something to do with how Sharpay's fingers have managed to intertwine with her own.

 

 

 

 


End file.
